


The Magic Ghoulbus

by FandomverseOfAnthony



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fallout OCs - Freeform, Fallout Original Characters, Original Character(s), ghoul ocs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:39:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomverseOfAnthony/pseuds/FandomverseOfAnthony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthony and Trish try to get an old Winnebago back into functional condition, along with the help of some of Goodneighbor's citizens. Plenty of OC cameos from the BestGhoulFriends community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Legend Begins

It was another bustling night at the Third Rail. Plenty of familiar faces in attendance, along with a few new ones. Everyone was finding the answers to their problems in a sultry song, or at the bottom of a bottle. Didn’t matter who you were or what you’d done, Third Rail was one of the few places in the Commonwealth where all who entered were treated as equals.

Anthony was posted up at the bar, Alaelys sitting on the stool to the right of him. She was clutching a bottle of Vodka, her favorite on the rare occasion that she did drink. He was watching Magnolia weave a tale through song, making him wonder if any of them were stories of her own.

Taking another swig from his Nuka Cola, Anthony noticed it was nearly empty. He didn’t drink alcohol, as he found the taste of any he had tried to be unpleasant. He’d also never taken chems or so much as taken a drag from a cigarette. He had no vices to speak of. In a den full of people that most of the Commonwealth had deemed “undesirable”, he was considered the odd one.

Anthony never judged anyone in Goodneighbor or thought he was better than them though, no, he knew everyone had their own hardships and dealt with it in their own way. Besides, most of the people in this town were some of the best individuals he ever had the pleasure of meeting. That’s why he has spent more time in Goodneighbor than he ever had at Diamond City. Not to say that Diamond City was a terrible place, but they could certainly use some new rules and management.

Goodneighbor was also one of the places that needed Anthony’s services more than most, with the exception of the smaller or new settlements in the Commonwealth. Trish was Goodneighbor’s resident handyman, and was damn good at her job, but she was still only one person. Typically, she would complete one maintenance request, only for five more to pop up.

Anthony remembered how he met Trish a few months back, watching as she was repairing a power control box, only for a resident to approach her and question when a faulty generator would be checked out. She attempted to calmly respond, only to be interrupted by the angry individual. That’s when he stepped in, offering his assistance. The resident gave him a weird look, then looked back at her, as if seeking her guidance.

Trish stared at Anthony for a moment. Something about him gave off a pleasant vibe. Despite the fact that she never met him before, she had this feeling that she could trust him. She smiled at him, then turned to the resident. “He looks like someone who can get the job done. If he’s offering, then you should probably let him. After all, if he screws anything up, that just means more work for me,” she laughed. The resident shrugged and motioned for Anthony to follow.

After getting directions from the locals, Anthony visited Trish at her office later that day. The two exchanged introductions, before Anthony extended an offer to continue lending a helpful hand, whenever he was around. Considering that the resident that he helped earlier was pleased with his maintenance work, Trish agreed. Anthony remained until night, the two of them discussed some of the craziest and/or humorous maintenance situations they had found themselves in. Laughter could be heard from the room for hours.

Mind back in the present, Magnolia had just finished her current set when Anthony felt Alaelys nuzzle his cheek with her nose. It was one of the few ways that he could tell that she had a fair amount of vodka. Drinking always made her a bit more flirty towards him, among other things. It wasn’t that she couldn’t be affectionate, she actually deeply loved Anthony as much as he loved her, she just found it hard to show it otherwise.

Like clockwork, Trish and Molly arrived at the Third Rail, right on time. Alaelys commissioned Molly to locate and retrieve some tools and equipment, for use in her ongoing research and experiments involving Wasteland creatures. Trish insisted on going with her, wanting to collect some scraps and parts for herself. Keeping to her reputation, Molly provided Alaelys with what she asked for, and then some. Anthony handed her a bag of caps for her work, insisting that the four of them got a table to catch up with one another.

As the hours flew by, patrons came and went, but the four remained at their table, relishing each others company and the atmosphere of the Third Rail. Maggie would join in on the conversations when she could, also dropping off drinks to their table, until Whitechapel Charlie would chase her off. Molly was in the middle of telling a humorous story about how a foolish raider tried to mess with Carla and Carol, Molly’s faithful Brahmin, only to get trampled on. An interesting question came to mind.

“Why don’t we see any vehicles used for transport? I get that nobody really knows how those atomic cars function, and that most are completely destroyed anyways, but between all of us scavengers, mechanics, and engineers, why hasn’t anyone tried to find an alternative fuel source or method to get one running?” Anthony asked adamantly. He felt it was a fair question, but nobody seemed to have the answer, not even himself.

“Fuck if I know… One thing I know for sure is I trust Carla and Carol with my life. Sure, we’ve been inna few tough spots, but nothing the four of us…” motioning to her shotgun, Wendigo, “…couldn’t fight our way outta.” Molly chimed in, a smug look on her face.

“Fair enough, but what if you could do your job, without having to worry about any raiders, super mutants, or whatever the Wasteland decided to throw at you, or Carla and Carol? We’re talking less caravan robberies, deaths and injuries, AND runs are completed in a fraction of the time…” Anthony replied. The more he thought about it, the more he was eager to attempt it.

Her face becoming somber for a moment, Molly stated, “I hear ya, but I couldn’t even dream of leaving those gals outta work. We’ve been at this for too long, been through too much together. I can’t see me doing it any other way. Besides, nothing beats the peace and quiet, being away from people out there sometimes.” Her usual demeanor returning, she objected, “It’s a great idea, don’t get me wrong, but it ain’t the ‘be all, end all’ solution to the Wasteland’s caravan troubles.”

Leaning towards the table, bottle in hand, Molly explained, “First, you gotta worry about fuel, and that ain’t easy to come by. It sure as shit ain’t gonna be cheap neither. Second, you’re forgetting explosions Shiny! Doesn’t matter how fast you’re blazing through the Wastes, when bullets or laser fire pierces that fuel source – BOOM!” acting out the form of an explosion. “You’re gonna have one hell of a time getting out. Me myself, I prefer a ride that doesn’t run on nuclear power. Plus, she’s much better conversation than a hunk of metal.”

“Yeah, that still remains a problem…” Anthony pondered to himself briefly. “If I can find a way around the fuel source, and shield it as much as possible, then that takes care of most of it. The trick right now is, where can we find a vehicle in decent enough condition to work on?”

Trish and Alaelys were absorbed in the back and forth between Anthony and Molly, but his final question triggered something. In an instant, Trish remembered the location of just what Anthony was seeking. Just the thought of working on a vehicle and getting one in working condition was making her giddy with excitement. “Oh! OOOOOHHHH! I know just the place!” she eagerly declared.

It took Molly a second, but she knew exactly what Trish was referring to. “THAT old thing?” she laughed, before adding “Yeah! That may be just what you both are looking for!” She playfully slapped Anthony on the back, expressing, “Tell ya what, if you both can get that junker working, I’ll gladly come along for a joyride every now and then.” Finishing her bottle, she confessed, “'Cause if there is anyone out there that could get that rust bucket going again, it’s gonna be you two.” She smiled warmly.

Trish jumped out of her seat, bouncing towards the exit while waving Molly, Anthony, and Alaelys to join her. Naturally they followed, while Anthony started carrying Alaelys on his shoulders, as each were interested in their own way as to what to expect. He was anxious to see what Trish had been so thrilled about.

The sun was starting to set over Goodneighbor. Arriving at the outskirts of town, the group had reached their destination. Sitting amongst a heap of scrap metal and other junk was a large bus-like vehicle.

Anthony raised a brow, confused, “What kind of vehicle is this? Never seen one in all of my travels. Looks like a bus and a truck mashed together.”

“It’s called a Winne… a Win…” Trish had to stop herself from giggling. “It’s a Winnebago. What a funny word, right? It’s one of the few pre-war vehicles that still runs off of fossil fuel. It’s like a bus, kinda, but can also be used as a home!” her eyes gleamed with joy. It had been forever since she had worked on a vehicle, and this was her chance.

Molly held her hands out, in the shape of a frame around the Winnebago, eying it. “It has potential. Yer gonna need guns though, BIG ones. We can throw them right on top of it!” Lots of ideas were whirling around in her head as she spoke. She wasn’t the one who could create or repair these kind of things, but she was great with ideas and there wasn’t a person in the Wasteland that has as much knowledge of where to get the parts and supplies needed for this kind of project as she did.

Anthony nodded in accord, as Alaelys stared at the vehicle, enamored. “This is great! I’ve been looking for a real challenge…” his classic goofy smile appearing on his face, as he turned to Molly and Trish to continue, “We should probably rest up for the night though. We can start fresh in the morning, get a better look at it, and see what parts we might need.”


	2. Brotherhood Boogaloo

Arriving back at Anthony and Alaelys’ room in Hotel Rexford, he immediately began brainstorming. There were no atomic car engines intact enough to reverse engineer. Fossil fuel was extremely rare and practically controlled by the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave, if the Enclave still even existed at this point. He could ask Elder Maxson to spare some, but their last meeting didn’t exactly end on good terms.

Anthony’s mind wandered again, this time back to the Capital Wasteland. Alaelys joined him in working with the Lyons’ Pride, hoping to put an end to the Enclave and avenge those who died in Vault 430. Weeks passed since they came to the Brotherhood of Steel with news about the Enclave. It wasn’t enough for Elder Lyons to take action, but he offered the two a proposition. In assisting the Lyons’ Pride with bringing order and helping the people of the Capital Wasteland, the Lyons’ Pride would better train the two in combat, while gathering intel on the Enclave and their base of operations. Elder Lyons made it clear that the Enclave posed a great threat to all of the Wasteland, and that he had every intention of keeping his word.

During Anthony and Alaelys’ stay with the Lyons’ Pride was where he first met Elder Maxson, who at the time was a Squire by the name of Arthur Maxson. He would share stories of his travels, and his missions alongside Arthur’s brothers and sisters-in-arms, much to the child’s delight. The Squire was so full of spirit and idolized Elder Lyons, while also having an obvious crush on his daughter, Sarah. That’s where Alaelys came in, giving the boy advice on how to properly treat a lady, and maybe even win their heart.

Fast forwarding to the near present, Anthony and Alaelys were standing in the Prydwen’s command deck, shocked to see an old friend after what felt like a lifetime. The Squire was now an Elder himself, commanding a large force of the Brotherhood of Steel into the Commonwealth. It was a surreal moment for them.

“Is it really you?!? Look how much you’ve grown! You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” Anthony gushed, beyond happy for the unexpected reunion. Paladin Danse was speechless, unaware that the two already knew one another. Anthony attempted to go in for a hug, only to be stopped by two Knights. Elder Maxson, however, did not return such warmth to Anthony and Alaelys.

“I’m afraid I can’t indulge in such formalities, civilian. I acknowledge our history, but on this ship, among my people, I am known as Elder Maxson. You will treat me with the respect that such a position deserves!” Elder Maxson barked.

Anthony felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest. This wasn’t the same person that he used to know. He refused to see it before, the scarred and grizzled look of the boy-turned-man before him. He had no clue what happened to force such a drastic change, but it made him feel sorry for him.

Seeing the hurt expression on Anthony’s face, Elder Maxson felt a twinge of remorse. “I’m sorry for being so strict. It is a pleasure to see you both again, but you must understand that we are currently at war for the very fate of the Commonwealth!” he slammed his fist in his hand, before forcefully continuing, “The Ghouls and Super Mutants are bad enough, but now an even greater cancer is eating away at the Wasteland, and we must cut it out before it consumes us all! The Institute and their Synth abominations need to be destroyed!”

Anthony felt anger bubbling up within him. It was uncommon for him to feel this way, but Elder Maxson was spouting out old xenophobic Brotherhood ideals, not what the boy was taught and embraced, when he was among the Lyons’ Pride. Anthony snapped, “Are you fucking serious?!? After all this time? After all that Elder Lyons has done for you, you decide to throw away all of his wisdom and teachings? Did his sacrifice mean nothing to you?!?”

The entire chamber fell silent. Anthony was balling his hands into fists, he bellowed, “Those Ghouls you care so little about, they’re people too you son of a bitch! Same goes for the Synths! It’s not their fault that they’re forced to be slaves to the Institute! When given the chance, they think and feel just like the rest of us!”

Alaelys could sense what was coming next. Before Anthony had a chance to act, Alaelys grabbed him from behind, pulling him back. “He’s not worth it…” she insisted, glaring at Elder Maxson. As satisfying as hitting the bastard with a right cross would have been, it wouldn’t have ended well for Anthony and Alaelys.

“Out of regard for your service to the Brotherhood in the past, I’ll overlook this. However, know that you will have to choose a side soon. The people of the Commonwealth need our protection, and if you’re not with us, than you’re against us!” Elder Maxson warned menacingly, a sneer on his face. As Anthony and Alaelys stepped out of the command deck, she responded with a single fingered salute.

Anthony shook his head, putting the past behind him. He needed to regain his focus on the task at hand. He wracked his brain, trying his best to come up with a solution. It felt like his mind had slammed into a brick wall. Piles of notes started to litter the table.

He felt Alaelys press against his back, playing with the buttons on his fatigues. “Anthony, it’s cute how determined you become over dilemmas like this, but you really should get some rest,” she insisted.

Anthony sighed, not wanting to give up just yet, “I will. I just… I need to find an efficient source of power, that isn’t damn near impossible to come across.” He placed his head in his hands.

Looking over Anthony’s notes, Alaelys had a brilliant idea. “What if you were to create an engine with a fuel cell controller, capable of using fusion cores? You could use some of the generators we’ve seen as a frame of reference. Deconstruct how they function and create a system of your own,” she pointed out, combing a hand through his hair. “Don’t you still have a few fusion cores stored with your other spare parts?”

Anthony’s eyes grew wide, the final puzzle piece had fallen into place. He jumped out of his seat, lifted Alaely’s off of her feet, and the two spun around the room for a moment. Gently putting her back down, Anthony passionately kissed her. Surprised at first, the gesture left her breathless. Regaining her composure, she deeply pressed her lips against his.

Pulling away, Anthony panted, “That’s it! You’re a genius! Your intellect is only matched by your stunning beauty! Oh, if only there was some way I could ever repay you!” he emphasized, grinning roguishly.

“You’re pretty smart yourself. I’m sure you can figure something out…” Alaelys teased while undressing, slowly walking towards the bed.


	3. No Rest For The Weary

A pounding at the door signified it was morning. Anthony and Alaeyls had overslept. Still groggy after last night, he stumbled to his feet and got dressed in a hurry. The pounding at the door persisted.

“Wake up sleepyheads! It’s time to make history!” a familiar voice shouted.

Alaelys groaned, turning away from the door and pulling the cover and pillow over her head. Clearing the sleep from his eyes, Anthony opened the door to see a very hyper Trish. He couldn’t blame her though. He’d share the same level of enthusiasm, if not for the fact that he had just woken up.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Trish urged, pulling Anthony by the wrist.

Anthony couldn’t help but laugh to himself, as he was dragged along towards the Winnebago. Trish already made preparations at the site, various tools and equipment from the local Red Rocket, and her own private collection, could be seen. Ready to get started, he grabbed the hook from the tow and attached it to the front bumper, giving her the signal to start the motor.

With the flick of a switch, the engine cut on and the cable tugged at the vehicle. The tow struggled at first, but after a loud screech of scraping metal, the Winnebago was pulled free from the pile and was now situated in a much better location to be repaired. Setting up multiple jacks around the transport, Trish and Anthony used them to lift it off of the ground, gaining a better perspective of what they were working with.

The combustion system was somewhat familiar to Anthony, but to Trish, she was at home. It only took her a few moments to see everything that was wrong with the vehicle. Taking notes of parts Molly would need to retrieve, she concluded, “The suspension is shot. The catalytic converter is useless. Oil pump is leaking badly. Parts of the frame are brittle… I could keep going. Oh, and did you figure out what we were going to do about the fuel source?”

In awe of Trish’s thorough knowledge of pre-war vehicles, it took Anthony a second to respond. “Uh… yeah.” He pulled out a schematic he drew the night before, continuing, “We’re going to build a new engine with a fuel cell control that can utilize a fusion core as the power source. Alaelys came up with the idea last night,“ he boasted. "By the looks of it, some of the old system is going to have to be gutted for a slightly different one.”

Trish’s interest was piqued. She asked, “Different how, exactly?”

“Well the engine will convert the power coming from the fusion core into a form of electricity. It’s less volatile than the atomic cars, and nowhere near as likely to burst into flames as a vehicle that runs off of fossil fuels. This means that certain parts of the Winnebago will need to be swapped out for more wiring, rather than all of the piping it currently has,” Anthony instructed. He handed the schematic over to Trish to look it over.

This time, it was Trish’s turn to be amazed. It was not what she expected, but she saw how it could all work, in theory. “If we can get this going, without killing ourselves in the process, we’ll be legends!” she shouted with delight. “We should probably buy some of those ‘big guns’ Molly was talking about, and electrical components for your design, from Kleo first,” she proposed, already heading in the merchant’s direction.

“Welcome back, baby. What’ll it be? Plasma mine? Fat Boy? Rocket Launcher?” Kleo queried, upon Anthony and Trish’s arrival.

“Nothing that serious Kleo. Not today at least,” Anthony joked. “Just need a couple of miniguns, if you have them in stock, and ammo for it. Oh, and this.” He handed her a list of components.

After analyzing the list, Kleo handed it back to Trish, giving her permission to grab whatever parts she needed from the bins. Turning her attention to Anthony she said, “It’s all yours, as long as you’ve got the caps. Just remember, there’s always a discount waiting for you, if you’re willing to provide me with a little service…”

Placing a pouch full of caps on the table, Anthony slid them in Kleo’s direction. “Kleo, you saucy minx, you know I only have eyes for Alaelys,” he playfully reiterated. Trish rolled her eyes at the two, before going back to collecting supplies.

Ever since Anthony repaired a damaged actuator on Kleo, she would always make a pass at him, whenever he would buy or sell goods. He always found it humorous, while Alaelys wasn’t too keen on the idea. “I’ll pick swing by to pick up the other minigun and rounds later,” he mentioned, while lifting up the other minigun. Stocked up on what they currently needed, Trish and Anthony headed back to the Winnebago.

Anthony and Trish made it back, only to see Molly leaning against the vehicle. She flicked a cigarette off into the distance, once she noticed they were there. “Took you both long enough. Almost thought you forgot about me,” her face went into a mock pout for a second, before getting to the point, “So do you got a list for me, or what?”

Trish nodded, handing Molly the notes and a bag of caps. Molly accepted the list, but refused the caps. “Consider this on the house, one time only. It’s my ticket to ride with that thing,” she proclaimed, while pointing to the minigun.

Anthony was in the process of bringing over the welding equipment when he overheard Molly’s comment. “That’s awfully nice of you,” he responded cheerfully. “Just be sure that you come back safe and in one piece. I would hate to give that minigun seat to anyone else,” he chuckled.

Molly tipped her hat at Anthony, a sly grin on her face. “Count on it.”

Trish squeezed Molly tight, wishing her a safe journey. She always enjoyed when Molly would come to Goodneighbor, bringing with her plenty of trinkets and interesting tales to tell. It was a shame that Molly didn’t take up permanent residence there, but she understood her reasons. Turning back to Anthony, he threw her a welding mask and gave her a thumbs up. It was time to go to work.

Hours passed by like seconds, as both Anthony and Trish worked tirelessly on mending the weak parts of the Winnebago’s frame, using the surplus of scrap metal that was lying around. Unfortunately Trish suffered from a few scrapes and minor burns in the process, which prompted Anthony to stop and tend to her wounds. He never had a real family, only the friends that he made during his journeys and Alaelys. He saw her as a kid sister, and sometimes would get protective, as if he was her older brother.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Anthony suggested, “We’ve made some real headway, but I think it’s time to call it a night. We’ll start again some other day, after you’ve had some time to heal.” His look of concern was met with Trish’s frown. Thinking it over, he proposed, “How about this then, you draw up a flyer, trying to recruit some other handy individuals in town to help us, and we’ll start again tomorrow with whoever shows up. Sound good?” A youthful grin returned to Trish’s face as she nodded in agreement.

Walking Trish back to her home, Anthony realized something. “You know, we’ve never gave this vehicle a proper name! All things of legend require a good name! How about… The GHOULBUS!” She went into a hysterical fit of laughter. The name was ridiculous, but it worked for her. Laughter slowly turned to sadness though, as she was reminded of her sister.

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” Anthony apologized.

Trish shook her head, looking to the ground. “It’s fine. I like the name, it… it just reminded me of my sister and a children’s show she enjoyed very much…”

Anthony placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry for your loss, and didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” The only fortunate thing about not having a family, was that he never had to experience what such loss felt like. Plenty of people close to him have passed on, but he knew this was different.

Putting a hand on Anthony’s, Trish gently moved his off of her shoulder and lamented, “It’s hard thinking about her sometimes, but I’ll be okay. The Ghoulbus will be a memory of happier times.” She brushed away a single tear from her cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Back at home, Trish began scribbling away different ideas for the perfect flyer, still trying to cheer herself up. After a few attempts, she was certain she nailed it. Everything was written in crayon, featuring a crude drawing of Anthony, Trish, and her vision of what the finished Winnebago would look like. Along with imagery, a simple jingle was written and where to meet.

__**On THE MAGIC GHOULBUS…  
Step inside - it’s a wilder ride!  
Come on - ride on THE MAGIC GHOULBUS!**

_**Want to have fun building something cool?  
Just follow the arrows!** _


	4. Getting The Band Together

The next day was brighter than usual, the sun beating down on everything not lucky enough to be in the shade. Trish leapt from her bed, snatching the finished flyer off of her desk. She was in better shape than the day before, but would be lying if she said she was 100% again. Running out the door as quickly as her legs could take her, she was unable to contain her excitement for what the day would hold.

Reaching the bulletin board, she pinned the flyer to it, pausing for a moment afterward to admire her work of art. Pulling out a piece of chalk from her pocket, it was time to proceed with the next step. She skipped along towards the repair site, only to stop at random times to draw an arrow pointing in the direction she was heading. There was no way anybody could get lost, or so she had hoped.

To Trish’s surprise, Anthony and Molly were already waiting for her, both lounging on worn beach chairs under a large tattered umbrella. Each had a glass in hand, Anthony with his Nuka Cola and Molly was gripping a bottle of whiskey. They clanged the top of their bottles together and took a large gulp of their respective drinks, enjoying a little rest and relaxation.

Trish huffed, only for Molly to throw her a Nuka Cola of her own. Delighted, she ran over to Anthony and Molly, taking refuge underneath the shade. She noticed he was wearing aviator sunglasses, similar to what the Gunners typically wear. They looked funny on him, forcing her to let out a small laugh. She also observed a large pile of what Anthony and Trish requested to the left of them.

“How long ‘til you think people’ll start showing up?” Molly inquired, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Both Trish and Anthony shrugged, almost in unison. There was no guarantee that anyone would show up, but he hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Unsatisfied with that answer, Molly stood up, bottle of whiskey still in hand, and started to walk away.

“Gonna head out for a while. I’ll see ya both later,” she declared, ruffling Trish’s hair on her way out.

The first volunteer didn’t arrive until a little over an hour after Molly’s departure. She was a ghoul with long black hair in a ponytail, and a red baseball cap, worn backwards. Her olive green jumpsuit was stained with spots of oil and dirt. Standing there for a moment, she gazed intently at the Ghoulbus, appearing to be in deep thought. The several ideas running through her mind provoked an amused smile, as she approached Anthony and Trish.

Trish insisted on speaking with the volunteer first, eager to see how much they knew about the Winnebago. She was, however, unprepared for the wealth of knowledge that the ghoul had to share. She was absolutely elated to know that there was another ghoul out there who shared her passion, and level of knowledge, of pre-war vehicles. Without hesitation, she jump-tackled her new friend, squeezing her tight. The volunteer staggered, surprised by the random show of affection, but eventually returned the gesture.

“I’m Tilda, and I can’t wait to get started!” she asserted, arm outstretched, inviting Anthony to shake her hand. He responded with a firm grip and a warm smile, happy to welcome her to the team.

Trish and Tilda went straight to work, setting the Ghoulbus up with a new set of tires, reinforcing them in the process. Meanwhile, Anthony dug into the pile of components that Molly provided, searching for what he needed in order to start production of the engine. Rolling out the schematic onto a nearby workbench, he removed his “lucky” screwdriver from his pocket and started to dismantle some of the parts.

The next person to arrive was another ghoul. He had shoulder length brown hair and was was wearing a sweater vest, with an opened plaid button-up shirt over it. Pushing his horn-rimmed glasses closer to his face, a quiet “Wow” fell from his lips, as he admired the transport before him. Anthony stopped for a moment, noticing the newcomer. He observed that the right side of the ghoul’s face had extensive scarring. Although interested in knowing the story behind it, he new better than to ask the person, at least before getting to know them better.

In a very soft-spoken voice, the ghoul introduced himself. “My name is Lucas Alexander Ross. I used to work at RobCo before the war, but have been working on weapons and terminals for settlements within the Commonwealth ever since. I don’t know much about vehicles, but maybe… uh… there is something I can help out with?”

Anthony could tell that Lucas was nervous, and wanted to make sure he felt welcome and needed. Looking around, he remembered that the miniguns needed to be mounted to the top of the Ghoulbus. “If you don’t mind, I was supposed to grab a minigun and some boxes of ammo for it from Kleo, that I almost completely forgot about. Would you mind getting them for me and setting them up there?” Anthony asked, pointing to the roof of the Ghoulbus. “Just let Kleo know I sent you, otherwise she might think you’re trying to steal from her… and that wouldn’t end well” he jested. Lucas nodded and laughed nervously at Anthony’s joke.

It didn’t take Lucas long to return with what was requested, but he did require Anthony’s assistance in getting the miniguns lifted into place. Fastening the miniguns at the front and back of the Ghoulbus’ roof, a thought occurred to him. “Hey! These miniguns will work well when manually aimed, but what if you don’t have enough people to use it? I can set these up to a small terminal, that can be wired to the engine, and be programmed to be automated.” Lucas shouted, sitting on one of the couches atop the Winnebago.

Anthony was impressed by the suggestion, as it never really occurred to him that such a situation may come up where that would be needed. He gave Lucas an ardent thumbs-up, watching as the former RobCo employee buried himself back in his work. Grabbing the welding torch that was currently not in use, Anthony did the same.

Diligently working on the engine, Anthony was near completion. Out of nowhere, an uneasy feeling washed over him, as if he was being watched. Surveying the area around him, he didn’t see anything out of place. He couldn’t shake the notion that something was off though. Turning back, he was startled by a ghoul that must have been watching over his shoulder. He fell over in his chair, causing the stranger to shriek as well, equally startled by Anthony’s reaction.

A Mr. Handy raced into view, hovering protectively next to the stranger. “Blimey! What’s all this now, Tinker? Can’t keep an eye off you for a second, without you getting into Barney Rubble, can I?” the robot bellowed.

“I-I-I’m sorry Toy. I was j-j-just interested in seeing what the flyer on the bulletin w-w-was all about,” the ghoul said to the Mr. Handy.

Everyone’s gaze turned to the new arrivals for a moment. Catching his breath, Anthony picked himself up off of the ground and placed his chair back into position. “So, your name is Tinker and your Mr. Handy here is named Toy?” he inquired, noticing that the Mr. Handy squinted in a way that made it seem like he was bothered by his comment.

“You taking the piss, mate? Do I look like a bloody servant to ya?” Toy growled, obviously annoyed at this point.

Anthony chortled at Toy’s reaction. “Easy there gov'na. No need to get your knickers in a twist. I didn’t know, and meant nothing by it.” he explained, winking at Toy. Toy’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise. “I knew a ghoul in the Capital Wasteland who spoke… cockney, was it? Interesting form of speech. Picked up a few words and phrases.” Anthony claimed, before returning his attention to Tinker.

Toy tried to downplay his amusement. Not many individuals that Tinker and Toy had come across understood much of what he would say at times, let alone how to speak it. Pretending to still take issue with Anthony, he muttered just loud enough for him to hear, “Tosser…”

“O-o-oh! Toy isn’t just a Mr. Handy, h-h-he’s my best friend.” Clearing his throat, he resumed, “I don’t k-k-know my real name, but someone once c-c-called me Tinker, and I liked it. S-s-so that’s my name.” he clarified, a nervous smirk formed as he took off his fluffy hat and played with it worriedly.

Tinker was covered in several bandages on his arms and legs, likely from various injuries during his travels. Anthony’s smile faded, now feeling worried about Tinker’s condition and whether he should be working on a project that may end up causing him more harm. He also noticed that Tinker was missing the flesh on his chin, but the wound did not appear new, nor was it causing him any distress.

“Okay Tinker, what skills do you have that could help us make this Ghoulbus the stuff of myths and legends?” Anthony queried.

“Well… I-I-I… Uh… Hm…” Tinker stammered, trying to find the words. He studied the engine from a distance, for only a moment. “M-m-may I take a look at that?” a shaky hand pointed to Anthony’s creation.

“By all means. Be my guest.” Anthony moved out of Tinker’s way, allowing him to examine the engine further.

Tinker’s eyes grew wide as he looked over the the work in progress. Some of his shyness melted away as he became absorbed in studying the tech. Fascinated by it, he blurted, “This is a w-w-wonderful design. I-I-I could make a fuel cell regulator f-f-for it. It will increase t-t-the efficiency of the fusion cores, making them l-l-last much longer.” he offered, grinning.

The day was filled with many unexpected surprises, Tinker being among them. Anthony was thankful that all of them were good for once, at least so far. He called for everyone to take a well deserved break, but nobody wanted to. Everyone was too dedicated to the project, loving the work they were doing and getting to know one another while doing it. Trish and Tilda were almost finished replacing parts of the combustion system with the necessary wiring for the engine. Lucas was busy programming commands on a terminal he built. As for Tinker, he was hard at work creating the fuel cell regulator that would attach to Anthony’s fuel cell controller.

While Anthony was admiring the hard work and dedication of his friends, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see two more potential members to the team. A look of anxiety and excitement stretched across both of their faces.

“Hello… We read about the Ghoulbus and wondered if you still need assistance?” the woman asked timidly. “My name is Cameron.”

Without realizing it, she nervously played with a strand of her long curly black hair. Her brown eyes were wandering all over the place, taking in her surroundings. She was wearing damaged overalls, not much different than the kind Trish was wearing, also sporting a Pipboy on her left arm.

Anthony opened his mouth, wanting to ask where she got it, but stopped himself. Her body language made it apparent that she was somewhat distant. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by doing so. Instead, he addressed the person that arrived with her, “Welcome! What’s your name?”

The other person was holding the flyer in their hand, offering it to Anthony, “Sammy Ortiz, at your service! I brought this because someone tried to tear it down and throw it away!” the ghoul proclaimed, trying his best to sound more confident. Correcting his tape covered glasses, he gave the brightest smile he could. He messed with his red shirt and baseball cap, trying his best to look presentable.

“Well, you’re both welcome to help. Everyone is already busy working on a specific aspect of the Ghoulbus, but I’m sure any of them would appreciate a helping hand,” Anthony beamed.

Sammy ran over to Lucas, the two conversing briefly, before getting back to automating the miniguns. Cameron approached Trish and Tilda, only to be embraced by both, making her feel a bit more serene. As much as Anthony would like to welcome more to help, he figured that they were at capacity at this point. Adding any more people to the project would just end up having people getting in each others’ way.

The smell of oil and humming of machinery felt familiar and calming. Anthony smiled to himself, as he hadn’t felt this alive in a very long time, and it all started from a conversation among friends. Everyone was engaged in a project they were all very passionate about, showing off their talents, to create something that the people of Goodneighbor could greatly benefit from. It almost felt like the world never ended, for just a second.


	5. An Unexpected Surprise

It’s amazing what can be accomplished when some of the Commonwealth’s brightest and best come together to construct something magnificent. A concept that would have taken Anthony and Trish well over a week to bring to life, was nearly complete in the matter of a few days. There were only a few minor setbacks that the team experienced in the process.

Theft of components plagued the project near the end, after word of the Ghoulbus spread throughout Goodneighbor. Returning to the site, Trish noticed that parts for the Winnebago, along with previously installed sections, were missing. The team agreed that scavengers were likely the cause, but Anthony refused to force anyone to work in shifts. He already felt guilty for everyone working such long hours.

While Anthony scratched the back of his head, contemplating an alternative, Toy decided to chime in, “I can ‘ang around, have a go at any dodgy knob-heads barmy enough to try and nick our goods.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, given that Toy didn’t need to worry about eating or sleeping. Anthony had seen his fair share of Mr. Handys wreak havoc on anyone who wouldn’t take them seriously, even the household models. Tinker also has proven himself to be quite the genius, and had likely made other modifications to Toy that would make even a Mr Gutsy think twice about crossing him.

Anthony shrugged. “Better than anything I can think of at the moment…” pivoting in Toy’s direction, he continued with an accent, “Right. Hopefully you’ll have bugger all to do for the night, and none of the daft prats show up again, keeping things easy peasy.”

Toy shoved Anthony playfully, provoking his mouth to curve into a smile. He still found it intriguing that Toy had such a vibrant personality of his own, to the point where he could almost swear that Toy possessed an advanced AI, beyond any other model that Anthony has come across in his travels. Reciprocating the sentiment, he pushed past Tinker’s friend in a lighthearted manner, grabbing the welding torch along the way. Everyone resumed work on the Ghoulbus, trying to make up for lost time. When night would fall, Toy would act as a steadfast guardian, ensuring that their hard work was not in vain.

Dawn washed over Goodneighbor, bringing in the new day, along with any new challenges that came with it. A worried look was etched on their faces, as the group arrived to see blotches of dried blood littering the area. Tinker ran to Toy, clinging to him as his face contorted into one of deep concern. Anthony was at a loss for words, unsure of what to even make of the situation.

“Oh come now, you wankers act like you’ve never seen a scrap before… Nobody was done in, just a bit of a tussle with a couple of twits, that’s all.” Toy stated, reassuringly.

Tinker brightened after hearing that all was well. A collective sigh of relief spread throughout the rest of the group. It’s not that death was new to any of them, it just would have been unfortunate for things to have gotten that far. It was sad enough that people were so desperate that they felt the need to steal from such a high profile project in the first place. One thing that nobody ever considered, however, was just how much attention was drawn to what they were doing.

Tilda and Cameron helped Trish add a special touch to the sides of the Ghoulbus, while everyone else gave it one final examination.

“So this is what’s been keeping my best handyman busy. Trish, you know Rufus can barely hold the right end of a screwdriver…” a familiar voice quipped. Trish whirled around to see who spoke, her whole face lit up in response to their new guest. Anthony followed suit, pausing his work for a moment to turn and greet the visitor. To his surprise, it was the mayor of Goodneighbor himself, Hancock, his arm intertwined with Abby’s.

Trish dropped everything and charged towards Abby, excitedly leaping into her arms. Abby staggered at first, her arm leaving Hancock’s, as she took a step back. Quickly regaining her footing, the surprise hug caused her lips to part into a warm smile. She laughed softly at Trish’s sudden and forceful show of affection, as Trish continued to tightly squeeze her. It was a touching moment shared between the two, which tends come few and far between in the Wasteland. Anthony threw his head back, amused by the adorable display.

Abby was considered a kindred spirit, having known what it’s like to have your whole world ripped away in an instant, replaced by a twisted vision of what once was. The two would compare emotional scars and “war stories” at the Third Rail, but Abby’s misfortune always trumped his, by far. Both continued on though, always protecting those they care about and seeing things through to the end.

An arm slipped onto his shoulder, catching him by surprise. His attention was pulled towards Hancock, not even noticing that he had left Abby’s side, and was now leaning on him.

“Y'know, it really hurts my feelings when I have to hear about something as crazy as this from people on the street, rather than from your mouth,” Hancock stated, as his eyes narrowed. “Makes me feel like you’re tryin’ to hide something, and nobody likes secrets.” The atmosphere around them began to feel uncomfortable. “Let me tell you something…” his hand moved behind his own back.

Anthony’s blood ran cold, experiencing a moment of deja vu, and not the pleasant kind. He was taken back to the first time he saw Abby, arriving at Goodneighbor, bloody and beaten. He stepped around the corner, having just finished performing some maintenance at the Memory Den. Some random thug was trying to take advantage of her current situation.

Anthony went to interfere, refusing to let an injured stranger be abused, but stopped once he saw that Hancock had already beat him to the punch. The scumbag made a sly comment towards Hancock, which is where Anthony now remembered where those words came from.

“Let me tell you something…” was what Hancock uttered, right before stabbing the degenerate in the gut, repeatedly.

Snapping back to reality, Anthony felt his whole body tense up, preparing for what he thought was to come next. To his surprise, Hancock pulled out a tin of Mentats, rather than a knife, a devilish grin stretched across his face.

“Mentats?” Hancock asked, nudging Anthony’s arm mischievously.

Abby noticed the pale expression on Anthony’s face. Her nose crinkled as she crossed her arms, huffing in Hancock’s direction, “John, be nice. I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Hancock patted Anthony on the back. “I know Sunshine, just giving him a hard time.” Laughing to himself, his stance was a lot more relaxed, allowing Anthony to breath easy.

“Sorry about that Hancock. Kinda just got lost in my work.” Anthony half-smiled, still feeling a little bad about it. “Would have told you sooner, otherwise. It started out as an idea among friends, and then…” he spread his arms wide, as if presenting the Winnebago for the first time, now beaming with joy. “…the Ghoulbus was born!”

Hancock pinched the bridge of what was left of his nose, groaning at Anthony’s statement. “Puns? Really? You know I got no patience for lazy humor.”

“Awwww, c'mon Hancock. Don’t be like that! You trick me into thinking I’m seconds away from holding my guts in my hands, but you can’t handle a little PUNishment?” Anthony playfully gasped.

Abby and Trish couldn’t help but laugh, as Hancock threw his arms into the air and headed back in their direction. “Alright, alright. I can dig it. It’s actually got a nice ring to it… ‘Ghoulbus’.” Hancock smirked, gently grabbing Abby’s hand. “So what’s the plan for this Ghoulbus of yours anyways?”

Anthony threw the keys to Trish, who fumbled with them a bit before catching them. “Oops, sorry Trish! Probably should have warned you before tossing them.” Covering his face for a moment, he started again. “The Ghoulbus is all yours.” Both Abby and Hancock’s brows raised, their eyes going slightly wide.

“I mean, it would be nice to take it out for a drive every now and then, but that was never really my intention. I was more interested in seeing if it could even be done in the first place…” Stepping up to Trish, Anthony placed his hand on her shoulder, smiling proudly. “Besides, none of this would have been possible without the people of Goodneighbor. If not for Tilda, Tinker and Toy, Sammy, Lucas, Cameron, and especially Trish, this thing would still be rotting in a pile of scrap.”

The Ghoulbus crew shifted from their work for a moment, each bowing their head in respect. Trish blushed, fiddling with the keys in her hands. The job of a handyman was mostly a thankless one. Few people acknowledged her work, aside from Abby and Hancock, so it felt good to actually be praised. Nearly brought to tears, she hugged Anthony with all of her strength. Anthony hugged her back, of course, but was careful not to turn it into a bear hug.

“Heh. You’re somethin’ else, kid. A lot of people avoid this place like the plague, but not you. You hang around in this town full of freaks, misfits, and troublemakers, helping Trish out where you can, never expectin’ anything in return.” Hancock scratched his chin. “Tell ya what. That little place you have over there in Hotel Rexford? Yours for as long as you need it. If Clair gives you any trouble, just have her speak to me, got it?”

Anthony was taken aback by Hancock’s gift, but gratefully accepted it. Alaelys and Anthony never had a place to really call home, but this felt pretty close to it. He made a lot of friends within Goodneighbor, so it was nice to know that he and Alaelys had a place to stay, whenever they stopped by to visit.

Holding Abby close, Hancock made a bold announcement, “Alright, this calls for a celebration! I’ve got an idea for the Ghoulbus’ ‘maiden voyage’! Just let me know when you’re ready to get this freakshow on the road!”


	6. Ride Eternal, Shiny and Chrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ghoul crew of Goodneighbor take the "Magic Ghoul Bus" out for a spin, but end up getting more than they bargained for...

Goodneighbor's streets were brimming with life, the likes of which haven't been seen since the day Hancock gave his first speech as mayor. All anyone could talk about was the upcoming ceremony, and the unveiling of the first fully functional vehicle within the Commonwealth. You could feel the excitement in the air, as residents rushed to get ready for the big event. They weren't the only busy ones, however.

The Ghoulbus crew was hard at work, setting everything up for the celebration. The Winnebago was covered in a patchwork tarp. Only the windshield was temporarily exposed, so that Lucas could steer, while Anthony, Tinker, and Sammy pushed it into the town square. Meanwhile, Trish, Tilda, and Cameron carried the banner, that they all created the night before.

Rolling into position, Anthony was surprised to see the growing crowd, waiting in eager anticipation. He never considered that he would be in front of a large group. Charismatic as he may be, the thought of so many people staring in his general direction made him nervous. Swallowing hard, he shook the feeling off the best that he could, keeping his focus on the task at hand. 

Hancock was already posted up near a soapbox, Abby standing slightly behind him. Anthony remembered her mentioning that she wasn't too keen on crowds herself, making him feel comfortable in the fact that he wasn't the only one. As for Hancock, he seemed more alive then ever. He fed off of the energy of the crowd. They were his people, and he was proud of what he was about to show them.

The vehicle in place, everyone worked together to set up the posts that the rolled-up banner would be attached to, hanging over the covered Winnebago. Trish was carefully adjusting the pull-string, making sure not to tug it too hard, and ruining the surprise early. Lining up in front of the Ghoulbus, it was nearly time to begin.

Hancock waited for a few minutes, giving everyone the chance to arrive, before he began. Among all of the people, a few familiar faces could be seen. Stepping up on the soapbox, the crowd began to cheer for him. The warm welcome of the residents of Goodneighbor caused him to smile wide. Motioning his hands for the crowd to calm down, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“For too long people have looked down on Goodneighbor. We're the outcasts! The ones that the Commonwealth wanted to forget, but we've stayed strong... Together!” Hancock shouted triumphantly, causing the crowd to burst into applause.

“Now hold on, hold on. I wasn't finished yet... What's behind me is going to change things, you feel me? A fast and easy way to trade goods and move people between Goodneighbor and other friendly places, like The Slog. Not another settlement out there can say they're able to do the same...” pausing for a moment, Hancock waved for Anthony and Trish to step forward, before continuing.

“And it's all thanks to one of our own and, believe it or not, someone that would have been considered an 'outsider' to Goodneighbor in the past. Thanks to their hard work, and the help of their crew, there's not a corner of the Commonwealth that won't know who we are!” Looking back at Anthony and Trish, he stepped off of the soapbox, waiting for either of them to take over.

Without warning, Trish threw all of her weight into Anthony's back, pushing him forward. Stumbling a bit, he looked back at the others, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. The crew, along with Trish, Abby, and Hancock, smiled warmly. Without even saying a word, he knew exactly what they were saying. 

You've got this...

Placing one foot on the soapbox, Anthony cleared his throat, positioning himself on top of it. He stood in front of the crowd, with as much confidence and resolve as he could find, while his mind desperately searched to find the proper words to say.

“Hello, Anthony here...” he screamed at himself internally, as he scratched the back of his head. “...er, well, many of you may know me as Trish's assistant handyman, or from other work I've done around Goodneighbor, and the rest of the Commonwealth. This started out as what Tish and I thought was a mere pipe-dream shared between us, but evolved into something so much more than that...”

Anthony's overall demeanor shifted into a much more serious one, as he stared at the ground for a second. Taking a deep breath, he spoke from the heart, lifting his head to meet everyone’s gaze, “I know what it's like to feel like you don't matter, like nothing matters. It's a slow poison that eats away at you, if you let it. But this...” he pointed back to the tarp covered Winnebago, his voice filled with passion “...this proves to the Commonwealth - hell, the whole world, that you're all capable of so much more! That regardless of what anyone thinks of you, that nothing on this Earth can stop you, when you pour your heart and soul into it!”

Turning slightly to face the Ghoulbus crew, he declared, “As I told Hancock already, even though this was an idea that Trish and I came up with, it took the hard work and dedication of people just like you, to make this possible. Let's take a moment to appreciate Tilda, Lucas, Tinker, Sammy, and Cameron for being such a huge part of this!” The crowd went into an uproar.

As the people clamored on, Anthony nodded to Trish, signaling that it was time for the big reveal. With great enthusiasm, Trish pulled down on the rope, while others yanked the tarp off of the vehicle. The banner read “GHOULBUS”, accompanied by some of Trish's signature art and scribbles.

The crowd was silent at first, unsure of how to react to the name. Laughing nervously, Anthony wondered, “Awww, c'mon! Does no one out there appreciate a good pun?”

Among the crowd, the hand of a stitched-up ghoul slowly raised. “I... I love puns!” they declared.

“And I love you, random citizen!” Anthony happily responded, pointing to the ghoul.

Hancock joined Anthony at the front of the crowd, “Well now, down to business... We only have so much room in the Ghoulbus to hold supplies and people, so this first trip will be a few of you. If all goes well, there'll be more, so don't worry. So who out there wants to catch a ride?”

A ghoul sporting a flight jacket and trapper hat passed through the crowd, stopping in front of Anthony and Hancock. “Any of you even know how to drive?” they questioned. The two looked back to the rest of the crew, each of them shaking their heads, before looking back at the ghoul. “Yeah, didn't think so. The name's Travis, and it looks like I'll be your driver,” he proclaimed, Trish happily tossing him the keys. Anthony couldn't help but feel like history was repeating itself, as more people stepped forward, almost one after another.

Following Travis was someone Anthony worked with in the past, but was a surprise to see volunteer. Abby's brother Neal insisted on taking point on one of the mounted mini-guns. Anthony tried to object, mentioning that Molly was manning one of them, while the other was capable of firing on it's own, but Neal interrupted, “That's fine and all, but a computer is only capable of so much. What if something gets damaged or doesn't work the way it's supposed to? Somebody has to cover your asses.” He winked at Travis, causing him to blush slightly, before climbing on top of the Ghoulbus, not giving Anthony enough time to protest.

With a huff, Abby tried to point out to Neal how reckless he was being, while also strongly imploring that she be allowed to ride along. Hancock was a little surprised, but knew better than to try stop Abby when she put her mind to something. “Just be careful out there, will ya Sunshine?”

“Of course!” she promised, squeezing Hancock tight. The two enjoyed each others warm embrace for a moment, followed by a loving kiss goodbye.

Toby and Preacher boarded the Ghoulbus, much to Preachers dismay, which prompted Mercy to approach the group as well. “A lot of things can go wrong on that thing, especially knowing Travis' driving...” he joked, “Not crazy about the idea, but chances are someone's going to get hurt, and you're going to need someone to patch them up. Besides, it's about time I head back to The Slog anyways.”

Trish was the last one to get situated in the Winnebago, besides Anthony. Someone was missing.

“Where the hell is Molly?” Anthony questioned, confused by her absence. “I thought she wouldn't miss this for the world?”

Almost as if on cue, Molly came charging through a nearby entrance, riding on top of Carla and Carol. Leaping off of her trusty Brahmin, she ran up to Anthony, saluting him in a mocking fashion, before climbing up the side of the Ghoulbus and sitting on her mini-gun throne. Shaking his head, while laughing, that meant everyone was now accounted for.

“Alright ramblers, let's get ramblin'...” Anthony bellowed, slapping the side of the Ghoulbus as he opened the front passenger door. Abby, Toby, Preacher, and Mercy were buckled up in the back, while Anthony and Trish sat at the front, Travis on the wheel. With the turn of the key, the ignition brought the Ghoulbus roaring to life.

“Hold on to your drawers, and don't piss in 'em!” Travis yelled, with a mischievous smile, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The vehicle darted forward, throwing everyone back in their seats. Trish flew backwards, but thankfully Anthony caught her arm in time and pulled her towards him, keeping her from falling over.

Manic laughter could be heard as Travis whipped around the corners of the ruins of Boston. Happy that the Ghoulbus was in motion, Anthony noticed that it wasn't exactly headed for The Slog, as originally planned.

“Hey, Travis? Where the hell are we going? The Slogs the other way!” Anthony cautioned.

Travis smiled back at Anthony, “Oh, I know. Just taking a little... detour, then we'll head straight there! I promise!”

That's when Anthony realized where they were headed - Diamond City. Of course they were. Given the chance, if it was Diamond City that was the first to get a vehicle up and running again, they would likely have done the same.

Flying past the front gates, Travis repeatedly slammed on the horn, while Molly screamed, “EAT IT!!!” The Diamond City guards that were posted out front were frozen with shock, one of them even dropped their gun. Anthony couldn't contain his laughter, and neither could the rest of the Ghoulbus. A small smirk even crept up on Preacher's face.

The Ghoulbus blazed a trail through the open Wasteland road, screams of both excitement and fear rattled the inner walls of the Winnebago, as Travis was still trying to gain his bearings. It was like riding a bike - only that bike was ridden over 200 years ago. 

Adrenaline coursing through Travis' veins, he applied more pressure to the accelerator, feeling more confident in his abilities with each passing moment. Reaching dangerous levels of speed, there wasn't a creature alive that could keep up with the Ghoulbus, or so the group thought...

The deafening thunder of an engine boomed from a fair distance behind them. The sound caught Anthony's attention, along with a few others, as he checked the side-mirror, in hopes of seeing what the noise was coming from. 

Anthony's eyebrows rose in shock, as the object was racing closer into view. It appeared to be another working vehicle, leaving him to question how such a thing was possible, knowing what lengths it took just to get the Ghoulbus operational.

The car's design wasn't far off from that of the Ghoulbus. Scrap metal was used to patch the weaker points, while other sections were reinforced for defensive purposes. The most notable parts of the wasteland-ready car were the exposed engine, with large exhaust ports jutting out of each side, and the random spikes that littered the vehicle. 

The car's features paled in comparison, however, to the driver. The stranger pulled up to the right of the Ghoulbus, maintaining the same speed. Everyone's gaze was transfixed on them, mouths slack-jawed, as Anthony and the mysterious driver locked eyes. 

With the driver now in clear view, he could see that they were a ghoul. What surprised him most was the fact that she was elderly, uncommon among ghouls throughout the Wasteland. She wore a face mask, covering a good portion of the lower part of her face. A wicked visage was etched into it, with what appeared to be breathing tubes protruding from either side of it, wrapping around to her back.

Her white hair was receding, like the most mesmerizing of sunsets, flowing in all its majesty. Strong winds caused the bags under her eyes to ripple like the waves of an endless ocean. A chiseled goiter could be seen just below the mask, as if handcrafted by artisans of the past.

They observed the Ghoulbus for a moment, as if they were sizing it up. The tension was shattered, however, when the stranger uttered a single word, with booming authority, “MEDIOCRE!” The car pulled forward in response, leaving the Winnebago in its dust. Anthony was only able to catch a brief glimpse of the license plate, which read, “ M4UD3”

Anthony was left dumbfounded by what had just happened. He still wasn't sure if it was real, or just a figment of his imagination. Then again, it couldn't have been, considering he wasn't the only one to witness it. What concerned him more at that time though, was what the stranger was driving away from in such a hurry.

That's when a sound was heard that caused everyone's heart to skip a beat, as the unnatural war cry of a Super Mutant Behemoth was heard not too far behind them, and somehow gaining.

“Uh, guys! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!!!” Neal announced, while the mini-gun started to spin...


End file.
